Ireland: Puissance and Pony Club Games at the Dublin Horse Show

July 23, 2016

I am relaxed and carefree as I leave my townhouse in north Dublin and catch the DART down to the Royal Dublin Society grounds. The morning is halfway gone, and it feels marvelous to not be up at the crack of dawn.

In fact, everything about today feels different than my usual days out. Since I arrived last night, there’s no early morning bus adventure to kick off today. Instead of disconnecting from work and emails, there’s the satisfaction of finally seeing Once (a musical I’ve wanted to see for weeks) and of standing on the Olympic Theatre stage last night during intermission.

Today is also different because I have only one destination on my agenda: the Dublin Horse Show. It feels so good not to worry about time tables, transportation arrangements, or anything else. I’ll simply show up at the show, and stay until I’m bored or it finishes for the evening.

When I get off the DART, there’s a small flow of families and couples walking towards the show grounds. I’m strolling through a very nice neighborhood – lots of big houses with well-manicured lawns, gated driveways, and quiet streets.

The flow of people I’m following takes me to a ticket stand, where I’m told that I’ll need to collect my pre-purchased tickets by walking down to the other entrance.

Back out on the main street, this sign catches my attention:

I pass the main entrance to the Royal Dublin Society grounds, and a thrill shoots through me. Today I’m not a tourist walking past something interesting. Today I am a participant!

Tickets in hand, I’m directed through the exhibit halls and out into the main grounds. I wander through the halls for a few minutes – they’re filled with vendors selling everything from horse paintings to Irish-made scarves, hats, and sweaters to horse equipment and more.

Outside the exhibit halls, the main walkways are lined with food vendors of all kinds. The smells of coffee, bacon, and breakfast waft through the morning air.

Right in front of me is one of the four rings. I lean on the fence and find myself at the end of a jumping arena. There’s a competition in progress; young riders are jumping their ponies over several obstacles. I watch for several minutes, marveling at how each rider seems to know exactly where they’re going.

There’s a second ring past the first one, where a group of hunters are being judged on how they look and move. Across from this ring is a warm up ring for the ponies and their riders, and further down the main walkway is a second warm up ring for adults.

The show has only been open for about 2 hours or so, but already there’s a swarm of people walking up and down the fairways, ducking into stands for breakfast, or crowding around the show rings. It’s a relief to present my ticket at the main arena and find myself in a fairly empty section of the main stands.

To my delight, I find that I’m quite close to the ring entrance, and that the main arena is also set up for jumping.

A class is just finishing as I grab a seat midway up the stands. The judges are taking turns mounting each of the horses and galloping them down the straightaway just in front of me.

The thunder of hooves makes me think of a lone rider racing hell bent for leather over a deserted dirt road, or a troop of cavalry swooping into a medieval battle.

There’s a short break before the next class comes into the ring. I watch with interest as the jockeys and their trainers walk the circuit.

As the Accumulator contest gets underway, I’m delighted to see that it’s an international group of riders. Several of the riders are Irish, but there are riders from the Netherlands, Italy, France, Brazil, Canada, Great Britain, the Czech Republic, Sweden, Australia, and the US. They’re scored on how quickly they complete the course, and they receive points for every fence that they clear.

The joker  is the last fence of the circuit, which means I have a premium view to watch as most riders attempt the taller fence, which either makes or breaks the rider’s total score. The first four riders opt for the “safe” fence at the joker. The 5th rider is Jessica Springsteen, Bruce Springsteen’s daughter. She’s the first rider (and the first American) to clear the joker and every other fence on the course. I whoop and holler as she exits the arena.

To my surprise the contest runs very quickly. While one rider is having their run at the circuit, the next is slowly walking their horse around, staying out of the first rider’s way but definitely in the ring. There must be a simple set of rules that govern how one enters the arena and which order the fences will be in. To me, it’s a graceful ballet of horse and rider rising effortlessly over the fences and flowing around the arena.

In no time at all it seems the winners are re-entering the ring and accepting their ribbons. Jessica Springsteen has placed 5^th, a respectable finish (even though I was hoping for the top 3). We stand as they play the Irish national anthem, and I realize that this may be the first time I’ve ever heard it.

After the three riders take their victory laps, there’s a break in the action. I watch for a few minutes as ground crews swarm onto the field, removing fences that will no longer be needed.

There’s also a horse ambulance on the field, tending to one of the horses who refused a jump near the end of the contest. I’m absurdly delighted by the fact that there’s a horse ambulance, though of course it makes perfect sense.

Since I have some time before the next competition, I decide to explore the area around the main stadium. The crowds around the jumping rings outside the main arena have grown in the last couple of hours, and the lines at food stalls are longer as people line up for lunch.

I treat myself to a Magner’s cider and stop to watch the pony jumping ring for a few minutes. There’s nothing going on at the main entertainment venue except a puppet show, so I retrace my steps and circle the back side of the main arena.

The map marks this as the Kid’s Zone, but there’s not much going on: a face-painting booth, a small playground, and a small sawdust-covered pen where small children can ride a pony.

I feel rather sorry for these performers, who are dancing their hearts out for the occasional child who passes by.

They’re excellent dancers, but they’re not getting a lot of attention tucked away on the backside of the stadium. Later I see them on the main entertainment stage, and I’m glad that they’re in front of a larger audience.

The next main arena competition has already begun when I re-enter my section of the grandstand. I’ve indulged myself for a second time and purchased an expensive – but delicious – chicken burger from the grill downstairs.

I settle into a seat one row back from the front, and watch as a horse and rider go flying past. Like the previous competition, this class of nearly three dozen is composed of riders from all over the world. The fences are higher this time around, but there’s no joker to make the final fence especially thrilling.

In between riders, I chat with the two ladies across the aisle from me. They’re a font of information about horse competitions and jumping, and are just as excited as I am to be at the horse show. They’ve come over from Glasgow for the day.

The two women are mother and daughter, and the daughter tells me that her grandmother and great-grandmother are downstairs waiting in a food line. They are proud that all 4 generations of their family are out for the day. When I ask about generation #5, the daughter tells me her 1 and 4 year old boys are at home with their dad.

There’s another break after this competition is over and before the headline competition begins. There’s a pony games team contest in the ring across the fairway from the main arena, and the fairways are clogged with people.

I watch some of the pony jumping in the ring next door, but the pony games are definitely the main attraction of the afternoon. I can’t see anything from the ground, but there’s a balcony in the main arena that overlooks the pony games ring.

The pony club games are a series of relay races designed to test the riders’ ability to control their horse and also have fun. I have an unimpeded view of the ring’s centerline, and I watch as all kinds of different obstacles and challenges are placed in front of the riders.

There are balloons to pop, rings to grab, items to drop into buckets, items to stack on pedestals, and more.

Sometimes the riders must go all the way to the other end and tag a teammate, and sometimes they must perform a task mid-ring. In one relay the riders are required to get off their ponies halfway, and hop in a gunny sack to the finish line!

Several times the final leg of the relay involves grabbing an Irish flag from the teammate on the far end and racing back to the finish line.

There’s something thrilling about a single horse and rider racing across the arena with a flag rippling in the wind.

Near the end of the pony games there’s a girl next to me videoing the games on her iPad. She’s maybe 10 years old, her brother 5 or 6. The girl belongs to a pony club and has competed in relays just like these. Her mother explains that the five teams currently competing are the five regional winners, and I ask the girl which of the relays are her favorite. As she talks about her pony club, I pretend I’m ten years old again, deep in the midst of my horse phase and wishing to be like the girls in the Saddle Club books I couldn’t stop reading.

The pony games end as we’re talking. I have no idea which team has won, because I can’t understand a single word the announcer is saying. There’s still some time before the next event in the main arena, so I set off to find Ring 8, the only competition ring I haven’t been to yet.

Ring 8 is a 15 minute walk through another row of food vendors and, more exciting, past the warm up rings for the main arena contests. There are several riders in the rings, some on horseback, and some working their horses on a lunge line.

Ring 8 is just finishing a break when I pull up to a spot along the railing. The sun’s come out in the last few minutes and I bask in the late afternoon heat while the announcer chivvies the riders to the starting line.

Unlike the pony jumping ring near the main arena, this ring feels smaller and with less space between the fences. There are grandstands built along this ring, but I have a great view at the end of the arena as the first rider comes onto the course.

The part of me that’s still mulling over what it would have been like to belong to a pony club as a kid is now also mulling over what it would be like to jump at a contest like this. Olivia, the first rider in this heat, is focused and cool as she takes another fence.

She finishes the round with no faults, and I admire how unphased she is by the cheering crowds.

A quick glance at my phone tells me I have just enough time to get back to the main arena before the headline event begins. It’s an event called the Puissance, which I know is French for “powerful.” The main arena announcer has been hawking tickets for it all afternoon, and it’s on at the prime evening slot.

All of these things tell me it’s the headline event, but I don’t appreciate exactly how attractive the event is until I climb up into the grandstand and realize that it’s already 2/3 full. Until now I’ve had my pick of seats; now I’ll actually have to sit in the seat assigned to me!

I’m sitting next to a couple of gals close to me in age. Both are friendly, but the gal with the super-short blond hair reminds me of someone I would see in Portland. She’s clearly the more outgoing of the two, and jumps horses to boot!

This contest is the power jumping round at the horse show, which explains why the stadiums are so packed. There are seventeen riders in all, and only a handful of fences. This time it’s not about speed and accuracy – it’s just about getting over these ridiculously tall jumps cleanly.

The final fence in this course is a brick wall across the arena. I’ve been eyeing it all day, and now I’m excited (and not a little terrified) to see someone jump it. Even from where I’m sitting high up in the grandstands, it looks tall and imposing.

The stadium is packed as the first rider begins the course. He makes it cleanly over the first five fences before turning his horse towards the wall. A tense hush falls over the crowd. Will he make it over the wall?

He does, as do all 16 of the riders that follow him. After the first round, the wall and the triple fence are the only two fences that must be jumped.

As rider after rider take to the course for round 2, I appreciate my seat in the grandstand all over again. I have a perfect view of the approach and execution required for the triple fence.

It is difficult to describe the sheer magnetism of watching a horse launch itself up and over the fence. It is effortless, graceful, as if horse and rider are one mythical being who can defy gravity at will.

It must be even more incredible for the people on the other side of the stadium, who have a perfect view of the approach to the wall itself.

Two riders are eliminated during the second round. The triple fence and wall are raised another few inches, and round three begins. This time half the remaining riders are eliminated, all because their horses clipped the top “brick” (cardboard, I think) and it fell off. Several more are close calls, but the brick stays on the wall, and that’s all that matters.

One of the crowd favorites is Michan Alberto, all the way from Mexico. As he enters the arena for round three, the announcer says “Go on Michan, show Donald Trump that you can jump that wall!” The whole crowd explodes into laughter as Michan raises his hand in acknowledgement. He clears the triple jump easily, but his horse clips a brick and it tumbles to the arena floor.

The other crowd favorite is Ireland’s Lieutenant David Power. He makes it over the wall but his landing angle is too steep and he pitches headfirst over his horse onto the arena turf. His horse takes off for the entry gate, mane flying and reins whipping between his legs. It seems impossible that he’ll make it to the gate before those reins force him to fall or stumble.

The crowd breathes a collective sigh of relief as the horse makes it unharmed to the gate, where a groom hesitantly reaches out to grab his bridle. Lt. Power is on his feet in the arena, unharmed and quietly acknowledging the crowd’s cheers. After a tense pause, the judges pass him to the next round.

The Puissance is being broadcast live over RTE 1, which means there are a couple of breaks while the broadcast goes on hiatus. During these breaks there’s a kiss cam (new at the Horse Show), a couple sing-a-longs (mostly to songs I don’t know), a human wave that rolls around the stadium, and a chance for spectators from various countries to shout out when their country is announced. It’s a fun break from the action, and generates a real feeling of comradery among those of us packed into the stands.

It’s the fourth and final round, and there are maybe half a dozen riders left. The wall, which has been steadily raised, is now 7 feet 1 inch. Each of the finalists is interviewed briefly by the announcer before beginning their final run. One rider comes out with a pint of Guinness in hand. Other strips off his riding coat to reveal a second jersey beneath, this one in honor of an internationally well-known and well-liked jockey who died unexpectedly in his 30s last year.

It’s a short but intense final round. Only two of the riders clear the wall; the other four make it over but knock a brick down in the process. The two finalists are both Irish, and they have both won first place!

For the second time today I stand to hear the national anthem of Ireland, then holler and whoop along with everyone else as all the finalists take a victory lap around the arena. They spur their horses into a gallop as they come down the straight-away, and the thunder of those powerful hooves is a wonderful sound.

As the main arena slowly drains of people, I say goodnight to my seat companions and thank them for answering all of my questions. I’m feeling pleasantly full of horses, jumping, pony games, and random conversations, and I’m not terribly interested in the final competition that’s starting in the main arena. But I’m even less interested in leaving just yet, so I claim a seat in the now empty first row and settle in for a bit of sun-bathing and one last round of jumping.

It’s around 9 pm when I finally leave the Dublin Horse Show. I’ve spent 11 hours inside these gates, which is more than I had expected to spend. It’s been a full day of meeting interesting people and immersing myself in a whole different world of horses and competition.

When I get back to north Dublin, I grab a take-away pizza and stop at the local pub for a pint of cider. It’s a lovely local pub, but after a full day at the horse fair, I’m not in the mood for loud strangers. I do like the music, though, mostly covers of rock songs from the 70s sung by an older man playing a guitar.

It feels late when I leave the pub, although it’s not much past 11 pm. Tomorrow I’m headed to Glendalough, which is famous not only for its 6^th century monastic ruins but also as the film location for parts of Braveheart and P.S. I Love You. I have never seen either movie, and sadly Braveheart is not available on Netflix. P.S. I Love You is, though, so I settle in to watch this rather bizarre movie in preparation for tomorrow’s tour.

Up next: the monastic ruins of Glendalough and the medieval city of Kilkenny!